


A Rick in the Hand is Worth Two in the Bush

by righthandsword



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Ableism, Familial Abuse, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righthandsword/pseuds/righthandsword
Summary: This is the one where I try to make Morty's self-harming and Rick's response to that as realistic as I can, broh. Rick's manipulative tendencies are put on blast and Morty has had enough, yo. Morty shenanigans are had, dawg."It was then that Morty realized that his cuts had been showing this whole time. Without meaning to, he gasped.Rick turned to him with narrowed eyes. “what?” he said.“Uh, uh, n-nothing…” Morty mumbled, bringing his knees to his chest. “It's just… you saw my, my…”“Yeah, your scars?” Rick said, turning to him with a look of disinterest. “What about it?”"
Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	1. The Jamborick

**Author's Note:**

> This has graphic depictions of self harm from someone who has self harmed. If that is something that would fuck with you, read with caution broh.
> 
> I'm going to be updating the tags as I post the chapters, so don't worry about it broh.

Morty glanced at his picture of Jessica, before closing his locker and glancing over at the real thing. Jessica was smiling, chatting with Brad and her two girlfriends. Brad turned, caught Morty’s eye, and curled his lip at him before turning back towards his friends. Morty felt a throb of self loathing as he worked his way past them and into his next class.

This was just one small part of Morty’s everyday life, but it was hard to find a point where he didn’t feel miserable. Ever since he turned 16, he slowly had been feeling worse and worse and he didn't know what to do about it. He brought it up in family counseling, and Dr. Wong had suggested one-on-one therapy, but his mom was convinced it was teen angst. Without any good argument, Morty had dropped it.

Morty made it through the whole day at school without Rick pulling him out of class, which was less of a rarity than when they first started going on adventures but somehow still a surprise every time. Sometimes Morty will catch himself pausing before class, waiting for that signature green flash. 

He mused on this as he walked to Summer’s car. Sometimes he felt like a trained dog, perking up at every sight of Rick, waiting for or dreading the adventures that come after. Perlov?? Pavlova? Something like that, he doesn't have the best memory for that particular flavor of bullshit.

Summer, leaning against the car, nodded at him as he walked up and they got in the car.

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna still be here or if Rick picked you up.” She said as she started the car and made her way out of the parking lot, “He said something about needing to go get more assbutt powder or something.”

“Assbutt powder?'' Morty asked critically, “Seriously? Assbutt powder? That's not even a thing, Summer. What the fuck. He probably said something like massdot powder or something even slightly less stupid than fucking assbutt powder.”

“God!” Summer snapped, “Everyone’s a fucking critic. Massdot? Really?”

“Oh my god this is so stupid.” Morty groaned, sliding down in his seat. Even that little spat took all of his energy.

“/You’re/ so stupid, Morty.” Summer said.

Morty elected not to respond, sliding farther down in the seat until the top strap of his seatbelt was practically choking him. But you know what? Whatever. If this is how he goes, so be it.

They arrived home to the garage being open and empty, the spaceship gone.

“I guess grandpa left without either of us” Summer noted, sounding a bit put down. Morty just felt relieved. He was exhausted from spending an entire day in class, pretending to be like everyone else.

“I guess I have time to go over to Melissa's house…” Summer mused, staying in her car.

“Bye, Summer” Morty sighed and walked into the house.

“I’m home!” Morty called, dropping his backpack next to the door. Silence answered him. Dad must have left to go shopping.

Morty had the house alone. 

Immediately Morty felt a thrill. He could masturbate anywhere in the house without anyone walking in on him. But then he remembered the last time he masturbated outside of his room. He cringed. Probably best to do something a little less high risk.

He made his way up to his room, locked the door behind him, and reached underneath his bed. Morty pulled out an opaque pencil box, and opened it. Inside was one of the only secrets he had.

He clambered onto his bed and kicked his pants off, his heart beating faster. He couldn't do this with Rick at home because he barges in, and everyone else being gone was just the cherry on top.

Morty adjusted his grip on the razor, and slid it across the skin on his upper thigh. The pain was sharp and he flinched, before breathing through it and continuing. He painted lines on his skin, parallel to the older, pink lines and the shiny scars that lined from the top of his thigh to right above his knee. The pain numbed to a dull throb, and blood dripped onto the sheets below him. Shit, he forgot a towel. Oh well, he’ll say it was a nosebleed if anyone asks. 

Morty switched to his other thigh, savoring the burn and the throbbing heat on his thighs. Something about cutting was just relaxing. It was something he could focus on, something just his that calmed him and put him into an almost meditative state. There was no misery, no self hatred, no adventures, no broken family. Just the cut and the follow through and the next cut and the pain, the burning, the captivating drips of blood.

He continued for a while, stopping once the entire stretch of his thighs tingled and burned. He put the blade away in his hiding place and wiped his thighs gently with the rough cloth of his jeans. Time for a shower.

By the time Morty got out the shower, his mom and dad had arrived home. Walking down the stairs, he glanced into the kitchen to see his father cooking dinner. The rest of his family was sitting watching tv. His mom was flipping through something on her iPad with a wine glass at her elbow, and Summer shared the couch with their grandfather. Rick was ignoring them all to watch Gazorpazorpfield.

“Hey,” Summer said, flicking through her phone without looking up as Morty sat between her and Rick.

“Hey” he said, “Oh, Rick, you wouldn’t believe what Summer said you were getting earlier.”

Summer elbowed him as Rick rolled his eyes.

“Let me guess,” Rick belched, “she said assbutt powder and you said,'' And here he made his voice high and whiny, “‘Oh jeez summer there's no such thing as assbutt powder oh man.’ well guess what Morty?” He took a bag out of his coat. It was labeled assbutt powder.

Morty scowled as Summer smirked smugly and elbowed him again.

“Do you have to be such a dick about it, Rick?” he asked, and Rick snorted without bothering to answer.

“Dinner!” Jerry called from the kitchen. 

Dinner was quiet, mostly filled with Beth recounting her day at work while Morty and Summer played on their phones and Rick astral projected.

Later, Morty stirred from his sleep at the feeling of someone urgently shaking his shoulder.

“C’mon, Morty, we gotta, we gotta go Morty” Rick burped, “The Florpmorp Commander dared me that I couldn’t steal from their stupid treasury so we’re gonna take their stupid treasury and shove it up his ass Morty, all the way up his ass till he’s coughing it”

Morty groaned. 

“Seriously, Rick?” he said.

Rick grabbed him by both arms and hauled him out of bed like a particularly stubborn sack of potatoes. Morty yelped and flailed, but it did little to stop Rick from depositing him on his feet.

“Get dressed or I'll make you go in your pajamas,” Rick said, as if Morty hadn't protested at all. Morty sighed, rubbed his face, and turned away to get dressed.

He quickly stripped off his pajama pants and pulled on jeans, gritting his teeth as the rough material slid up his thighs. He liked to get dressed a little more carefully, but couldn't risk it with Rick in the room. He slipped into his shoes, and turned to Rick. 

Rick was picking at his chewed, frayed fingertips in impatience, but looked up as Morty turned to him.

“About time, Morty, I aged a fucking decade.” he said, and grabbed Morty’s arm to drag him through a portal.

A flash of green, and Morty stepped into a dark, dreary cityscape.

“Okay Morty, here's the plan.” Rick said. “We’re gunna sneak in through the sewers, laser our way through a couple walls, steal some cash, and get the fuck out before we’re caught. Capiche?”

“Oh man, I guess, Rick… what if we get caught?” Morty asked.

Rick scoffed.

“We’re not going to get caught, Morty, that's the point. Now come on.” Rick said, starting to walk down a nearby set of stairs. Morty sighed miserably but followed.

The stairs lead to a huge sewer entrance. Rick led and Morty followed, through the muck and the stink.

“Do you at least have an oxygen mask or something?” Morty groaned, covering his nose with his shirt.

“Suck it up, kid.” Rick grunted, looking a little like he wanted to do the same. 

They continued through the tunnels, slipping on grime and stopping every once and a while to check their directions.

“We’re almost there, Morty. This was a fucking cakewalk, I can’t believe that asshole was acting so high and mighty about this shit.” Rick scoffed, taking a drink from his flask. Morty hummed nervously in response, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

After checking his directions on his device again, Rick paused in front of a stretch of wall.

“C’mere, Morty. I need you for this.” Rick said. Morty walked towards him, only to be grabbed and pulled close to rick.

“We’re surrounded, Morty, he fucking set me up Morty, the bastard set me up!” rick hissed into his ear, shoving a gun into hands.

“W-w-what?!” Morty yelped as Rick quickly turned and stood back to back with him. The change was immediate. An alarm blared, red light sharply cutting through the relative darkness of the sewer tunnel. Soldiers marched forwards, aliens with four legs and two arms and a head like a slug coming from both sides of the tunnel. Leading them from one side was a larger alien, with gold decorating his uniform.

“Rick Sanchez!” the alien said smugly, “You dumb bastard. I'm gonna capture your ass and sell it to the highest bid- augh!”

Rick shot a hole through the commander’s chest. The tunnel lit up with blasts as Rick fired on the crowd of soldiers and Morty followed suit. 

Suddenly, something hooked into Morty's side. Within seconds his entire body lit up with pain, Morty screaming as an electric current shot through him. 

“Morty!” Rick shouted, turning back towards him before getting hit in the back with another taser lead. Morty blacked out to the sound of Rick screaming in pain and rage.

Morty woke some unknown time later, laying flat on a hard, cold surface in only his boxers. He groaned, eyes slowly opening to the bright blue light surrounding him. 

“Oh, finally decided to wake up, princess?” a familiar rough voice snapped from above him. Rick.

“Uuuugh….” Morty groaned again, blinking as his eyes adjusted to look up at Rick. Rick was naked, lips pressed together in displeasure as he looked down at him.

“G, get up Morty, we gotta get out of this shithole.” Rick said, standing and walking to the side. Morty rolled over and stood, watching as Rick started to study the surroundings.

They were in a cold, small cell. One side had a glass wall facing another cell with a florpmorpian asleep inside it. The other three walls were solid steel with no cracks or seams in them. 

“Shit, Rick, we really did it now.” Morty said, crossing his arms and huddling as Rick pressed against the glass.

“Less bitching, more helping.” Rick said, annoyed.

Morty sighed, walking forward and pressing against the glass with him. It felt strong and smooth with no seams. Rick swore and kicked it. It barely vibrated.

Morty sat down in the corner of the wall and the glass, bringing his knees up. It was then that he realized that his cuts had been showing this whole time. Without meaning to, he gasped.

Rick turned to him with narrowed eyes. “what?” he said.

“Uh, uh, n-nothing…” Morty mumbled, bringing his knees to his chest. “It's just… you saw my, my…”

“Yeah, your scars?” Rick said, turning to him with a look of disinterest. “What about it?”

“W-well…. don’t you care?” Morty asked, chest tight with some unknown emotion.

Rick scoffed, reaching for his flask before remembering he was naked.

“Do I care? Barely. Truth is, Morty, some people have too much shit going on to worry about the sanctity of the temple or whatever the fuck people go on about. If there's a temple, I've raided it. Who fucking cares what you do to your body. Just don’t off yourself, that would be seriously fucking inconvenient to me personally.”

“Woooow, Rick.” Morty said, scowling. “Really touching.”

“Is that what you want?” Rick asked, approaching him. Morty shrank back as Rick kneeled in front of him and reached for his shoulder.

“Oh, Morty, buddy,” Rick said, his face and body language shifting like Morty has seen so many times used on his mom, “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? Don't hurt yourself, Morty, you're my little buddy Morty.”

Morty shoved Rick away from him.

“You're such a dick, Rick!” Morty snapped, relief and anger warring in his chest. On one hand, Rick isn't yelling at him or mocking him for cutting. On the other hand…

“You don't understand what it's like, Rick!” Morty snapped. Rick narrowed his eyes down at his grandson.

“You think I don't understand, you little prick? What the fuck do you think this is?'' Rick snapped, turning his arm wrist up. There was a long, wide slice going up his non-mechanical arm. Morty’s eyes widened.

“I-I thought--” Morty started, only to be interrupted by Rick.

“You thought what, Morty? You thought I didn't have these?” Rick said, turning so Morty could see in clearer detail the circular burn marks clustered on the outside of one of his thighs. “Or this?” Short, random cuts on his upper arms. “Or this--”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” Morty shouted, turning away with guilt in his stomach.

“You, you’re, you’re not special Morty.” Rick said, turning away seemingly disinterested in this conversation. He starts to pick at where the seam between glass and metal should be. 

It was quiet for a while, Rick puttering around at the edge of Morty's sight while Morty quietly picked at an older scab.

“Rick?” Morty asked quietly.

Rick sighed in annoyance.

“What, Morty?” he said.

“Why do you cut?” Morty asked. Rick rolled his eyes so hard his head practically rolled along with them.

“I don't know Morty, why do /you/ cut? Maybe it's fun, maybe I like the pain, maybe it's existential dread, or maybe, /maybe/, I'm a sad 14 year old and my hormones are making me feel depressed.”

“W...what? Okay, first of all,” Morty says in annoyance, “I’m 16. And what? Hormones? Is THAT why I've been so depressed?”

“What the hell else could it be?” Rick snapped, “It's not like anything else has changed in your life except puberty. Congratulations, your brain’s faulty, which by the way is obvious just from talking to you.”

“Whuh… you knew? You knew and you didn’t help me?” Morty said, voice raising as he scrambled up to his feet, “You knew I was feeling awful all the time, feeling so hopeless and miserable and you just sat there and did nothing?! Why didn’t you help me, Rick!?”

“So what, you, you want to be put on pills? You want to be drugged up and numb all the time? You wanna take 5 different medications to try and fix whatever the fuck is wrong with your brain and all that happens is you get the side effects? It isn't for smart people, Morty, you, you gotta just deal with it Morty.'' Rick said, reaching for the flask that isn't there again, “You gotta deal with it just like you’ve been dealing with it, the same way I deal with it and the way your mother and sister deal with it. You drink, or you cut, or you go batshit fucking crazy and axe murder people like your fucking nuts sister.”

Morty gaped at him, speechless. Before he could formulate a response, a noise echoed from down the hall. 

“Oh boy.” Rick said, “Here we go.”

The commander that Rick had shot walked in front of their cell with two guards, smirking as much as he could with a slug mouth.

“I’m going to sell you to the highest bidder, Rick, you chump.” he said, “You fell directly into my trap.”

Rick rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “Yeah, right.” he said.

“And I’m going to start the selling process by videoing you getting tortured.” The Commander said cheerfully. Morty startled, glancing at Rick. Rick seemed completely unimpressed.

The Commander pressed a button outside of their cell, and the glass slid open. Morty stepped back away from the glass as the two guards ran in, lunging for Rick. 

Rick ducked underneath their grabbing arms, shifting his mechanical arm into a blade and shearing through the first guard on his way to the door. The other guard tried grabbing for Rick again, but Rick got away with just an inch between him and the guard’s outstretched hands. He made it to the door, slipping through right as the commanding florpmorp slid the door shut. The guard pounded on the shut door, swearing, as Rick took a large step, swinging his arm in a wide arc and decapitating The Commander as he turned to run. 

“Won’t be getting healed this time, mother fucker.” Rick said down at the twitching body, before turning towards the last florpmorpian with a smirk.

The guard quailed for a moment, before turning and grabbing Morty. Morty shouted in fear as the guard unholstered his pistol and put it to Morty’s head.

“What now, Sanchez?” The guard crowed.

Rick rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

“Rick!” Morty howled, thrashing. His flailing arms slapped the gun out of the hands of the shocked guard, and Morty immediately dove for it. Morty and the guard wrestled for it, the guard stronger but Morty managed to pull the trigger in time to shoot the guard in the arm. The florpmorpian reeled, shouting, and Morty aimed and fired.

The guard dropped dead, shot in between his slug eyestalks. Morty scrambled up and away from the dead body, dropping the gun.

From behind him, Rick opened the glass door. “Good job, Morty, now come on.” he said as he grabbed Morty’s arm and dragged him out of the cell, stopping to pick up the commanding florpmorp’s decapitated slug head by the eyestalks.

Down the cellblock hallway and through a door, they found their recently stolen clothes.

“Alright, Morty.” Rick said as he bundled his clothes under his arm, “Now we can actually steal from the treasury.”

“What?” Morty asked, baffled, “We’re still going to steal after being captured for who knows how long? And while you’re naked?”

“It was only like an hour, Morty, quit complaining. And I need to be naked for the next part in my plan.” Rick said dismissively, pulling out the device he checked his directions with in the tunnels. He turned and walked through a doorway, leaving Morty to hurry through putting his shoes on and running after him.

They walked for a spell, taking random turns as Rick followed the device. Eventually they reached a huge door with flood lights lighting it, a security camera on each side of it, and some sort of scanner right in front of it.

Rick pulled a taser looking gadget out from inside his coat, and zapped The Commander’s head with it. Then he pointed it at himself and zapped. The lines that made up his body wobbled, before he morphed into the florpmorpian. 

“Whoa.” Morty said.

“Yep.” Rick said in The Commander’s voice. He walked up to the scanner, which whirred loudly before letting out a pleasant ding. 

“Wow!” Morty said, as the large door began to grind open, “That was easy! What’s the catch?”

“The catch, Morty, is that florpmorpians are idiots and they put their biggest idiot in charge of the money.” Rick said with that alien voice as he walked in. Morty went to follow him, but Rick gestured sharply at him and he stopped.

“You’ll be zapped if you walk in here Morty, you’ll be zapped into dust and die.” Rick said, “You gotta have the right florpmorpian DNA, Morty.” 

“Oh.” Morty said quietly, and resigned himself to waiting outside for Rick as Rick walked in and disappeared past a turn in the treasury. From Morty’s position, it was a dark grey hallway with lockboxes lining the walls. Maybe there were piles of gold like a dragon’s treasure pile further in. Morty lost himself to a daydream about it.

A while later, Rick came back, a large sack slung over his shoulder. He walked out of the treasury and threw the bag on the ground, before zapping himself again with the taser looking device. His body wobbled, before he shrank down into his usual size and shape.

“And that's the waaay the news goes.” Rick said with satisfaction as he began to get dressed. Morty peered into the bag and was amazed to see it full of flurbos.

“Oh man, what are we gonna do with all this money, Rick?” Morty said. 

“Blips and Chitz, probably.” Rick said, grinning, “Or maybe I’ll try and send Summer to college or something to get her out of my hair, she’s been fucking obnoxious lately.”

“I thought you liked going on adventures with her, Rick?” Morty asked, watching as Rick picked up the sack again and began walking.

“I don’t /like/ going on adventures with anyone, Morty, especially not when they’re heckling me every time they have a mood swing to go out into space and find someone to murder.” Rick said, “Even I run out of people to murder, Morty.”

“Jeez…” Morty said. They walked in silence for a while, Rick eventually making Morty carry the sack of flurbos. Eventually, the hallways opened up into a large ship hanger. Their garbage ship was in the far back, in the corner. It looked like someone had tried looking through it and got murdered by the ship for being nosy. 

“Ha, got what was comin’ for him.” Rick said before stepping over the bloody body and getting into the ship. “C’mon, Morty, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

The ride was mostly silent on the way back to earth, and with the time given to him Morty began to process everything that had happened. Most importantly, Rick had found out about his cutting.

“Rick?” Morty asked as they entered the solar system. 

“What?” Rick grunted, drinking from his flask.

“Do you really not care about me… you know…” Morty trailed off, sitting stiff and nervous in his seat.

“About you what?” Rick belched, “being a huge burden on me in every adventure we go on? Well, now that you’re asking…”

Morty groaned. “I mean my cutting!” he forced out, “Do you really not care that I hurt myself, Rick?!”

“Oh Jesus.” Rick said, a look of annoyance crossing his face. “Stop being so self centered, Morty. I truly do not give a singular fuck.”

Morty couldn’t put a finger on the way he was feeling. He wanted more of a reaction then Rick not caring, for once. He wanted Rick to care.

“If, if you don’t care, then I’ll just kill myself!” Morty said, before crossing his arms and turning to look out the window at the stars.

Rick scoffed.

“You won’t, pussy.” he said, “And if you do? I’ll just get another Morty.”

Morty gasped and turned to him, rage making a cruel mask of his face.

“You /wouldn’t/” he snapped, “I’m the Mortiest Morty. Why the hell would you get another one?” 

“You think you aren’t replaceable just because I told you some bullshit saying to get you off my back about there being multiple Mortys, like, two years ago? Yeah, right.'' Rick said.

Morty’s jaw worked in disbelief. It was a lie? All this time? The one thing that kept him holding on to Rick, that feeling of being special among Mortys even to someone as cold and callous as Rick? The one thing that kept him going on these fucking adventures, even when he was exhausted, depressed, suicidal?

Morty turned and grabbed the handle to the door in a blind rage, yanking on it with all the fury he had burning in his chest. He would space them both. The door didn’t open, some sort of child lock, but the door handle snapped off.

Suddenly, Morty was yanked closer to Rick by his arm.

“Y-you trying to kill us both, huh?” Rick hissed, spraying spittle in Morty’s face with his eyes wild and terrifying, “You wanna suicide pact, Morty? You want us both to go? FINE!”

Morty shrank away, cold terror replacing the heat of the anger he had.

“W-what are you g-gonna do, Rick?” he stuttered, but Rick had already turned away. With the earth in view, he hit the turbo. Morty was pushed into his seat with the force of it, as earth grew closer at an alarming rate.

“R-Rick!” Morty shouted, “Please stop! I’m sorry!” 

“Too late for that!” Rick roared, pushing down hard on the steering wheel, aiming them directly towards earth, “I’m, I’m gonna kill us Morty, just, just like you wanted Morty, I’m gonna kill us and I’m gonna kill your family too Morty! We’re all gonna die just because Morty wants to kill himself and wants to take grandpa with him!”

Morty screamed as North America rapidly came into sharper and sharper view. 

“No! No, Rick, please no!” Morty shouted, leaning over with effort to try and yank at the steering wheel. Without turning, Rick backhanded Morty away from him. Morty yelped, holding his cheek for a moment before reaching back over again. This time, Rick pushed him away and held his arm out to keep him away. Morty tried to reach, but it was futile as Rick was long and lanky especially compared to Morty.

Their state, county, and suburb became sharper and sharper, rising up to meet them. Morty, locking eyes on his house, let out a sob and curled up into a ball.

Without warning, Rick stepped on the break. With an agonizing lurch, Morty was yanked hard against the seatbelt. His head, arms, and legs snapping forward and ribs creaking and cracking as the seat belt dug deep into him. His breath left him in a sharp wheeze, the G-forces squeezing him. There was a pause as Morty was pushed back into the seat by the seat belt, and then another hard jolt as they hit the driveway just slow enough for it to be a minor crash. The wheels snapped off and the bottom of the spaceship scraped and dented as they skidded a couple feet, bumping into the reinforced interior wall of the garage.

There was a pause. Morty struggled to breathe but couldn’t. The atmosphere in the ship was oppressive, filled with Rick’s heavy breathing and Morty’s tiny labored gasps. With what little air he could get, Morty began to sob. His whole body was shaking and pained, and tears were pouring down his face.

“Oh, so now you wanna live, huh?” Rick snapped, “How convenient, you only want to live when someone else would be doing the killing.”

Rick leaned over, and grabbed Morty’s head by the hair. He made Morty look him in the eyes.

“Don’t try to kill yourself.” Rick said slowly, keeping eye contact with Morty, “And sure as hell don’t try to kill me. Or next time I won’t brake.” 

Morty closed his eyes, another agonizing sob choking out of him. Through his sobs he could hear Rick kick his door open and the sound of a portal opening and closing. Rick left.

The door to the house slammed open, and his father’s voice shouted, “Rick? Morty? What happened?”

Morty coughed through his tears, breathing in as deep as he could as he leaned up in his seat to peer out at his Dad through the window. Jerry gaped, staring.

“H-help me out of the ship, Dad.” Morty wheezed, blinking the tears out of his eyes. He still shook with silent sobs, but was slowly starting to come to terms with what had just happened.

“Oh! Right, right.” Jerry spluttered, and quickly walked over to open Morty’s door from the outside. 

“I can’t get my seatbelt.” Morty coughed, poking weakly at the release button.

“Here, let me get it.” Jerry said, and climbed precariously into the ship to undo it for him. Morty sighed softly in relief, and carefully untangled himself from it. Free, he wrapped his arm carefully over his Dad’s shoulders. Jerry slowly eased out of the cockpit with him, Morty still wobbly and shaky. 

“What happened, Morty? Where’s Rick? How’d you crash?” Jerry asked.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Morty said, exhausted, as they limped into the house, “I just want to go lay down.”

“Alright…” Jerry said hesitantly, “But we’re talking about it tonight after your nap.”

Morty nodded, wiping his face with his free hand as they made their way through the kitchen and up the stairs. Morty’s ribs ached as they climbed the steps, but not bad enough for Morty to think they were snapped or broken. Probably cracked.

Jerry opened the door to Morty’s room, where his bed was unmade and his pajamas on the floor just like he left it. Morty took his weight off his father’s shoulders and hobbled to his bed, entire body aching. 

“Well, alright…” Jerry said, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway, “You gonna be okay? Should I call your mother home?” he paused, then asked “Should... I make you chicken soup?”

“Sure, Dad.” Morty said tiredly, easing himself down flat onto his bed, “Just let me rest until I come down on my own, okay?”

“Alright, son.” Jerry said, and closed the door to his room.

Morty laid there in the dark and the silence, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to control his breathing and not have a full blown panic attack. Eventually, he fell asleep.

Morty stirred from his fitful sleep at the sound of a portal being opened and closed.

“Mooourrgghhtyyy” Rick groaned, slumping over him from where he sat on the edge of the bed and causing Morty to hiss in pain.

“My buddy… my l-little partner… you okay Morty? You alright…” Rick slurred, trying to steady himself upright and only succeeding marginally.

Morty tried to shift up to lean against his headboard and only barely succeeded, all of the pain from earlier settled deeply into his chest.

“Fuck off, Rick.” Morty said quietly, but with feeling. Rick sat up straight, but quickly slumped back down over Morty’s legs.

“You’re alright, Morty, you’re gonna be just fine… just like grandpa…” Rick slurred, “Look, look we’re, we’re the same, you and me,” 

Rick peeled his shirt up to show slices cut out of Rick’s stomach, deep and dripping blood at an alarming rate. Morty gasped, just now noticing the tacky blood all over his blanket and Rick’s front.

“You don’t gotta… don’t gotta feel uh, feel depressed Morty you don’t gotta… cut yourself pal… my little tough guy…” Rick slurred, face unfocused, as Morty began to panic.

“What the fuck, Rick? You’re gonna bleed to death!” Morty said urgently, freaking out at all of the blood as Rick let his drenched shirt settle back down over the cuts.

“I’ll be fine… it’s all good Morty it's all gonna be okay little man...” Rick trailed off as he reached up to pet Morty’s head, and promptly passed out.

Morty grabbed his hair, panicking as he looked down at the drunken, bleeding old man.

“Why are you so fucking crazy?!” Morty shouted at Rick’s unconscious body, “What the fuck, Rick!”

Rick, sprawled across his bed unaware, did not reply. Morty started swearing under his breath as he started searching his grandfather’s coat for his portal gun. He was in no state to drag Rick down the stairs, but he had to get him down to the garage to heal his seeping wounds. 

He found the gun, and quickly shot a portal next to his bed. He shifted out from under Rick and grabbed under his arms to drag him through. It was hard with the deep seated pain in Morty from the crash, but he was able to make it through the portal and deposit his grandfather onto the cold floor of the dark garage. Through the door to the house he could hear his mom and dad talking, about to have an argument from the sound of it, but he couldn’t pay attention to them now.

Limping over to the cabinets, he reached down with a groan and started digging through it. He was looking for an aerosol can, something to knit together the skin on Rick’s stomach and save his life. Hopefully Rick won’t need a blood transfusion.

Finding the can, Morty shuffled back over to his grandfather and kneeled next to him. He pulled the soaking shirt up to under Rick’s chin and shook the aerosol can. 

“Okay, here goes.” he muttered and started spraying the open cuts on Rick’s stomach. The skin surrounding the cuts began to bubble and knit together quickly, leaving nothing but blood blemishing the smooth expanse of Rick’s stomach. Morty leaned back on his heels, breathing as deeply as he could as he dropped the can next to Rick. 

“I can’t keep fucking doing this.” Morty said quietly, shaking his head slowly, “Jesus Christ.” He looked down at his trembling hands, at the bruises peeking out from his shirt collar, the blood on his arms and speckled over his body, his grandfather in front of him soaked in blood and unconscious with his shirt hiked up.

“You know what, Rick? I’m not gonna take this shit anymore!” Morty said, standing on wobbly legs and grabbing the portal gun. He adjusted the coordinates, and shot a portal. Morty gave one last look to his sprawled grandfather, and turned to walk through.


	2. Mission: Immortable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> solo adventure: Morty style B^) feat. some fun cameos that I very much enjoyed

Morty stepped through the portal, and squinted at the bright light of the Citadel of Ricks. Ricks and Mortys wandered around the plaza, some in pairs and some with multiple Mortys. It was weird to see; Rick had told him about the Morty collecting and battling on the citadel but he had never seen it. 

Rick had said that he put an anti-theft chip in Morty, back when the craze first started and there were Ricks coming into their dimension looking for Mortys. Morty didn't know if it was true, but looking around at the glossy-eyed Mortys following singular Ricks, he hoped so.

Stowing the portal gun, Morty started walking around. It was slow because of the pain in his chest and the ache in his limbs. He didn't know what to do now. It all felt so right, in the moment, going somewhere Rick was loath to follow. But Morty had no friends here, no allies. 

Morty decided to follow the crowd. He still had some flurbos stashed in his pockets from the adventure the day before, maybe he could stop at a coffee shop or even a hotel if there was one. 

The Rick and Mortys he had been inadvertently following stopped in front of him, causing him to stop too. Peering around them, he could see they were in a short line to a storefront. 

"Surgeon Rick's Office" it said brightly on the front of the store. At the front of the line was a trio of Mortys being herded forward by a Rick with heavy fringe. The Rick behind the counter, in a bubbly seafoam uniform, leaned over and gave the first one a shot. It seemed to perk the tired looking Morty up.

Morty felt excitement bubble up in his sore chest. This was the perfect first stop. He waited patiently in line, watching curiously as each Morty in line got a shot. It reminded him of the shot he had gotten so long ago, the first time he had used antigravity shoes and failed to turn them on. 

Eventually, Morty made his way to the front of the line. The Rick behind the counter looked at him, and then around behind him.

"Where's your Rick?" he asked gruffly. Morty grimaced, trying to think quickly.

"Uh, he's… he's not here. He sent me alone because he didn't want to get off his lazy ass!" Morty said nervously. Surgeon Rick stared down at him, completely unimpressed. 

"This service is for Pocket Mortys only." Surgeon Rick said.

From behind Morty, another voice piped up.

"Just heal 'em, Surgeon Rick." the voice said. Turning to look, Morty saw a Rick with buttons on his lab coat, a hat pulled over his eyes, and so quick you could almost miss it, the pop of bubblegum.

"Fine," Surgeon Rick said, "but you're taking responsibility, Bubblegum Rick."

Bubblegum Rick popped his bubblegum again as Surgeon Rick leaned over and jabbed Morty in the arm with a needle. Morty yelped, but tried to stay still as possible as a cooling wave spread from his upper arm through his body. He felt cold for a long moment as the serum worked hard to fix his cracked ribs and bruised limbs.

"Next." Surgeon Rick grunted.

Morty quickly stepped out of the way, as Bubblegum Rick stepped forward with his Mortys. He had some sort of creepy shadow Morty, a slimy pink Morty, and… an egg? The first two got a shot, and the egg got brought behind the counter for a moment. Bubblegum Rick took that time to turn and stare at Morty.

“You from Morty Town?" he asked, jaw working as he chewed. 

"Uh… yes?" Morty tried. Rick raised his eyebrow at him.

"Convincing." he said dryly, before turning to accept the egg back and put it into his backpack. "So what did you do, run away from your Rick?" 

"No!" Morty said, his voice going high in pitch. Nailed it.

Bubblegum Rick rolled his eyes, and gestured for Morty to follow him away from Surgeon Rick's. Morty paused, considering, before deciding to follow him.

"So what happened?" Rick asked. Morty grimaced.

"H-he tried to kill me, my Rick." Morty fibbed, "because I… because I said I was gonna kill myself." Bubblegum Rick took a moment to think about that as they walked. The silence was filled with the occasional 'pop!'. 

“So what’re you going to do now, kid?” Rick asked. Morty shrugged, looking away.

“Maybe… find a new Rick? I didn’t really think it out completely.” Morty said, getting a snort of amusement for his trouble.

“That’s obvious.” Bubblegum Rick said. 

The area around them got seedier and seedier as they went, and Morty looked around nervously.

“Hey, w-where are we going?” Morty asked.

“You’re probably going to be safer in Morty Town, nobody comes here to chip Mortys.” Bubblegum Rick said, “Unless you have a better idea.” 

Morty did not have a better idea, but the thought of staying somewhere so seedy was making him nervous.

“It’s your choice.” Rick said, stopping in front of a worn down bar. “I’ve got places to be and Mortys to battle, so unless you want me to chip you this is where we split.”

“No! No thank you!” Morty cringed, stepping away from Bubblegum Rick. Rick huffed a laugh at him, before pulling out a courier flap beacon. 

Morty watched as the courier flap appeared, taking Rick and his Mortys and zooming away quickly. He was alone.

Morty wandered the dirty streets, nervous and lost. Other Mortys stared as he passed. Eventually, as he turned a corner, he saw a group of Mortys surrounding two Mortys in uniform, flanked by two cop Ricks. Morty approached.

“... and its paid, so not only are you doing something with your lives, you’ll have money to move into the new Morty apartment complexes being built on the east side.” a monotonous Morty voice drolled. There were oohs and other excited mutters from the crowd.

Morty approached, watching as some of the Mortys from the crowd began to sign a piece of paper one of the Uniform Mortys had. 

As the crowd dispersed, Morty walked up to the two Uniform Mortys. 

“Uh, hey.” Morty said nervously. Both Mortys looked over to him in disinterest. 

“Are you here for the President’s Morty work program?” The one on the left asked.

“Uh, well, actually... “ Morty stumbled over his words, “I was wondering, could you, if y-you knew where I could get a new Rick?”

Both Uniform Mortys scoffed and turned away to pack up their paperwork. Morty slumped. Since when could he be such an asshole? The citadel changed people.

Staring down at his shoes miserably, he didn’t notice one of the Cop Ricks coming up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. Morty jumped, startled.

“Wuh? Huh?” Morty said intelligently.

“Hey, uh, Morty.” Cop Rick said, “You must be new here. The ratio between Ricks and Mortys means that there are way more Mortys than Ricks, especially ever since the Rickicide. The chance of you finding a new Rick is pretty damn low.” Morty groaned, rubbing his face with both hands.

“But hey, with President Morty’s new Morty work programs, you could make a good place for yourself.” Cop Rick offered.

"Wait a minute, President /Morty/? Is that a joke?" Morty asked, baffled.

Cop Rick gave him an odd look.

"You haven't been around in a long time, have you?" Cop Rick asked, "President Morty has been in office for a year and a half now."

Morty thought about that for a moment, amazed. 

"So, should I tell Uniform Morty to pull the sign up sheet back out?" Cop Rick asked. It looked like they were all ready to go, and waiting on Rick.

Morty paused, before shaking his head. He wanted to go home, to Mom and Dad and Summer. Just with a nicer Rick.

"Do you know someone who would know if there was another Rick out there? Who would take me?" Morty asked.

Cop Rick hummed, thinking. "The only other choice than the Citadel Department of Replacement Mortys is that maybe, maybe you might be able to get a meeting with the President. President Morty has a detailed list of all the Ricks and Mortys in the Central Finite Curve."

Morty perked up. "Could you take me to him?" he asked, excited. Cop Rick clicked his tongue, glancing over at his partner who was waiting for him by the squad car. 

"Fine." Cop Rick sighed, "But I can only take you to his office. Everything else after that would have to be up to you." 

Morty bounced on his feet for a moment, excited. He was going to have his own, Rickless adventure and he was gonna find a nice Rick that cherished him.

Morty followed Cop Rick to the squad car, where Rick opened the back door for him, allowing him to slip in before closing it behind him. The two Cop Ricks conversed for a moment outside the car. Then, they both got into the front of the vehicle.

"You're too soft, Beta-125" The other Cop Rick said. Beta-125 shrugged, and started the car.

The flight was quiet and awkward, with the second Cop Rick rolling his eyes and shaking his head every other minute. It was like he couldn't believe they were helping Morty. 

About 5 minutes later, they arrived at a huge, beautiful building. 

"Alright." Cop Rick Beta-125 said, and got out of the front to let Morty out of the back seat. He shut the door behind Morty, and looked down at him. 

"What dimension were you from, again?" Rick asked. Morty hesitated. Would he recognize his dimension as the one whose Rick destroyed the first Citadel?

"You don't have to tell me, just figured I'd look you up later and see if you succeeded." Rick said casually. Morty sighed.

"My Rick, he… he did some bad stuff. I'd rather keep my dimension to myself." Morty said honestly, looking up at the impressively nice Rick who had helped him this far. If this Rick didn't live on the citadel, he might even have wanted to stay and see if maybe he needed a Morty.

Rick nodded, pausing, before ruffling Morty's hair. "Good luck, Morty." he said, and turned to leave. Morty watched as Beta-125 got in his squad car, and lifted off to drive away.

Morty turned and began to walk into the huge building. Inside was a large and beautifully decorated receptionist area, with a high vaulted ceiling and large windows. There were two receptionist Mortys at the desk, one taking a call and the other typing on a computer. Morty walked up to the desk. Computer Morty looked up at him.

“Welcome to the Presidential Offices. Do you have an appointment?” Computer Morty said politely. 

“Uh, n-no…” Morty said, sheepish. “I was hoping to get one? To talk to President Morty?”

“I’m sorry, unless the President has business with you, it’s rather impossible to get an appointment with him.” Computer Morty said, still in that flat, polite tone. Morty grimaced.

“No, you don’t understand!” Morty said urgently, “H-he’s the only one who can help me right now!”

Computer Morty smiled sadly at him. “Sorry, sir. I wish I could help every down on his luck Morty that comes in asking for help, but the rules here are clear. Unless you already have an appointment, the President just doesn’t have the time for it.”

Morty groaned in frustration. He had to find a way to talk to President Morty, and he had no idea how to make himself important enough to warrant a meeting. 

Sighing, Morty walked back outside. He would have to do something grand enough to warrant a meeting with the President. What would Rick do? Sitting down on a nearby bench, Morty began to think. Rick. An impatient, rude, whip smart old man who didn’t follow anyone’s rules. He would either do something awful, like blow something up or kill a bunch of people, or…

Morty got up, and started walking around the side of the building. There had to be a fire escape or something, right? Craning his neck to look up, he accidentally bumped into someone.

“Hey!” they said. Turning to apologize, Morty saw he was talking to another Morty, this one in a maintenance uniform.

“Uh, s-sorry…” Morty mumbled, sheepish. Maintenance Morty rolled his eyes, annoyed. 

“T-there’s like 5 feet clear on either side of me and you ran into me? Seriously? Watch where you’re going next time.” The other Morty sassed. Morty narrowed his eyes. 

“Whatever.” Morty muttered.

As he stepped aside and continued walking around the building, he was disappointed to see that there was no fire escape, no clearly marked window that was obviously the President’s, or anything else that would help him. Sighing, he plopped down with his back to the building. Maybe he should try sneaking in? But how? He didn’t have any sort of stealth suit, all he had was the portal gun. 

Just then, the Maintenance Morty from before turned the corner and made a face as he saw him. 

“No loitering.” He said in annoyance. Morty glared for a moment, before getting up and dusting his butt off. 

“There’s no need to be a dick.” He said, and began walking away. As he passed Maintenance Morty, the other scoffed at him. Wow, what a dick. Looking back, he saw the other Morty headed to a back door.

Wait, a back door? As Maintenance Morty pulled out his ID to get back into the building, Morty realized what he had to do. Running forward, Morty lunged and tackled the other Morty.

“Augh!” Maintenance Morty shouted, before Morty wound his arm around his neck. For several long moments, there was only the sound of scuffling as Maintenance Morty thrashed and choked, trying to swing his elbow back to hit Morty. He landed a few hits, but Morty persevered, ducking his head down and gritting his teeth as the other Morty slowly struggled less and less. A couple moments more, and Maintenance Morty slowly slumped, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Morty sat up. The other Morty stayed sprawled on the ground, unresponsive. 

“Holy shit.” Morty whispered, staring at his shaking hands. He took several deep breaths, before shaking his hands loose and standing. It was time for action.

Pulling the other Morty behind a large shrub, Morty quickly stripped and switched clothes with him. Holding his ID, Morty walked over to the back door, and scanned it. With a quiet swish, the door slid open. Steeling himself, Morty walked in.

The inside of the building was cool and silent, with a plush carpet and pale walls. To the left was a long hallway with elevators at the end, to the front another hallway presumably to the front lobby, and to the right was a maintenance closet. Success. Morty took a steadying breath and began to walk to the elevator. 

“Calm, cool, collected…” Morty whispered under his breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. It always seemed so easy when Rick did things like this, but doing this and doing it alone, was nerve wracking. 

Approaching an elevator, he pressed the button to call it. It took a couple of long, nervous moments, but the doors slid open. The elevator was empty. Morty stepped in, and quickly pressed the close doors button. Observing the buttons and the scanner next to it, there were 60 floors. Morty pressed for floor 60. 

“Please scan your ID badge now.” a cold, robotic voice stated, startling Morty badly. He fumbled with his pocket, heart a drum beat in his chest. Withdrawing the ID, he scanned it. 

“Clearance denied.” The voice said. Morty swore, and pressed the button for floor 59. The elevator repeated its ID request, and Morty scanned the ID again.

“Confirmed. Thank you, Morty Theta-75.”

Morty exhaled in relief, replacing the scanner as the elevator began to rise. It was a silent, tense ride, with Morty wringing his hands and trying to take deep breaths. With a soft “ding!”, the elevator opened. 

The floor was more open plan, with cubicles lining the center. The quiet murmur of Mortys and typing drifted through the floor, and there were a couple Mortys walking through the aisles with coffees or stacks of papers in their hands. 

Shaking himself out of his daydreams, Morty stepped out onto the floor. Blood was rushing through his ears, as he scanned the floor for anything like stairs. The only doorways he could see that weren’t the clear doorways into single cubicle offices went into the bathroom. Well, he couldn’t stop now. Morty made his way over.

The bathroom was quiet and clean, empty from the looks of it. Morty couldn’t help himself from checking each stall, glancing over his shoulder occasionally. Public bathrooms always made him nervous now, and being somewhere he shouldn’t be only made it worse. Morty locked himself in a stall, and sat down. What was he going to do now?

Above him, the air kicked on and began to whir through the vent. Morty looked up, and studied it. It was small, but so was he. Grinning, he stood and stepped up onto the toilet, reaching for the vent grating. It was on firmly, but not screwed in. He could do this. Steeling himself, he yanked hard.

The grating came off easier than Morty expected, sending him flying back off of the toilet. He slammed back into the door with his shoulders and head, his hips and butt landing on the ground a moment later. Dazed, he sat there, pain radiating across his body.

Slowly, Morty began to take stock of his injuries. His head hurt badly, but not bad enough for any permanent damage… hopefully. His neck wasn’t too bad, and he could flex his shoulders without the pain crippling him. His hips and lower back hurt, but not as much as his head. Gingerly, he stood. 

Rubbing the tender spot on his head gently, Morty looked up. Time to go, before his luck ran out and someone came into the bathroom. He stood on the toilet again, grabbed the edge of the vent, and heaved himself up. His shoulders caught, but shimmying a little got them through. He kicked, squirming into the vent a little at a time. Who knew it took so much upper body strength to lift yourself up?

Finally, Morty was able to make his way entirely into the vent. He crawled forward, peering into the darkness to try and find his way. Eventually he could stand, and attempted to clamber upwards. It took a few tries, but eventually he was able to make it to a higher horizontal path. Scrambling forward, he made it to another vent and pushed off the grating. Score.

Morty tumbled to the floor from the vent, groaning. Shaking off the pain, he stood. The 60th floor was… it was empty. Completely empty, no desk, no decorations, no cubicles, no walls other than the outer walls of the building itself.

“What the fuck?” Morty said, before something hit him, hard, in the back of the head.

Coming to some unknown time later, Morty groaned into the floor he was face down on. His head was blisteringly painful. 

“So, did you kill Theta-75?” A calm voice asked. 

Looking up, Morty took in the situation. He was guarded on either side by Ricks in white Citadel uniforms. The room he was in was large, with big open windows, a dark hardwood floor, and a beautiful desk in front of him. Sitting at the desk was… a Morty.

“Wuh?” Morty slurred, sagging into the floor. He couldn’t think through the pain of two head traumas in a row.

There was an impatient sigh, and something stuck him in the arm for the second time today. A wave of coolness radiated through him, and his awareness sharpened. He looked back up as the two Ricks lifted him into a chair.

“Where’d you put Theta-75’s body?” The other Morty asked. Morty blinked.

“I didn’t kill him.” Morty answered honestly, “I was just trying to find President Morty.” The other Morty leaned forward, fingers interlocked. 

“You found him.” he said.

Morty stared. President Morty stared back.

“Uh, wow.” Morty said. President Morty rolled his eyes.

“What did you want from me that drove you to go to my offices, knock out my maintenance man, use his ID and search through the 60th floor?” President Morty asked, impatient.

“W-well, I, uh…” Morty said, before shaking himself. This is what he came to do, he couldn’t be a wimp about it. “I want a new Rick. A nice, good Rick. You have a list of all Ricks in the central finite curve, right?”

President Morty watched him for a moment, blinking slowly like a snake. 

“There is no good Rick.” He said, “There is no nice Rick.” 

“What about just… a /nicer/ Rick, if not actually nice?” Morty asked plaintively, “There has to be one, right?”

President Morty shook his head, reaching into his desk for a remote. Pressing a button, a large screen on Morty’s right lit up.

“These are all the Ricks in the central finite curve.” President Morty said, as a long line of Rick mugshots appeared on screen. “They’re listed from most evil on the left, to most good on the right.” 

Morty blinked in awe as President Morty began to scroll through the Ricks, going right. Eventually, the line of Ricks ended. 

“This Rick, the “Most Good” in the central finite curve, is what you’re looking for, correct?” President Morty asked. Morty nodded eagerly. 

“Too bad.” President Morty said coldly, “This Rick killed himself in his 40’s.” Morty gasped. President Morty flipped to the next most good Rick.

“Killed himself as well.” The next Rick. “In prison for the crimes he’s committed.” Next. “Never had Beth, and refuses to communicate with the Citadel or any other Ricks or any Mortys.” Next. “Terminally ill, and refuses to communicate with the Citadel besides.”

“Alright!” Morty snapped before the President could continue. “Fuck, dude! There’s no need to be an asshole about the completely understandable wish to have a grandpa that's actually decent!”

“There’s no point in wishing for something that will never happen.” President Morty said firmly, lips pursed in frustration. “If you want something, you either make it happen or you move on.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now, man? I’m /trying/ to make this happen! There’s got to be some Rick that’s still alive and is nicer than my old Rick!” Morty shouted, “He made me want to kill myself and then crashed the spaceship into the ground in some sick game of chicken just to get back at me when I tried! H-he basically told me that he didn’t give a shit that I hurt myself! He puts me in d-danger all the time and doesn’t even give me a choice about it!” 

President Morty watched impassively as Morty panted for breath with tears in his eyes. They locked eyes for a few long moments, before the President turned to the screen and flipped left for a couple of moments. Morty took the time to wipe at his face.

“You will owe me, understood? When I call on you, I expect nothing but devotion for this boon.” President Morty said.

“Alright, but only if the Rick you send me to is actually nice.” Morty agreed. President Morty paused on a Rick who looked completely average, with the only difference being that his hair was much more ruffled than the usual Rick.

“Rick Alpha-14.” President Morty stated. “I’ve heard nothing but bad things about him from his fellow Ricks, which means that he is your best chance at what you’re looking for.”

“Alpha-14…” Morty echoed, staring up at the screen. His new Rick’s neutral mugshot seemed to stare back out at him. Was this what Morty was looking for?

“Rick, give him back his portal gun.” President Morty said, startling Morty. He hadn’t even noticed it was gone. The Rick to the left of him pulled his portal gun out and handed it back to Morty. He looked down at the gun, how it felt so heavy in his hands for how light it really was. The last thing he had from his old Rick.

“Alright, C-137. I will see you again.” President Morty said with finality. Morty nodded, not surprised at this point that the President knew his dimension. He probably got it from his portal gun.

“Bye. And thanks.” Morty said. President Morty waved his hand to dismiss him. 

Morty aimed, and shot the portal that would lead him to his new life. He took a deep breath, and walked through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i cameo my favorite ricks and everybodys favorite antagonist? i sure did! Feel free to comment your favorite Ricks and Mortys below, and tell me which Rick you have on Pocket Mortys B^)


End file.
